


Venus Flytrap

by mrobrotzly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (after chapter 4), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Christmas, Eventual Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogsmeade Dates, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, POV Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Soft Draco Malfoy, Top Draco Malfoy, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrobrotzly/pseuds/mrobrotzly
Summary: [...] "This is one of the most difficult potions in the book, Potter" he explained calmly and, for a moment, Harry felt himself in the presence of a stranger "It takes weeks of practice and study to make such it perfect.""And how much time do you need to make one at least acceptable?" he asked before thinking and saw one corner of Malfoy's mouth lift in a half smile."A few days. Maybe a week.""Great" he replied "Will you help me?"The slytherin narrowed his eyes a little, still looking at him with that small smile. Potter kept his gaze, waiting."Tomorrow at two o'clock, in the potions class. And don't be late." [...]
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	1. I want to see your guard down

**Author's Note:**

> I want to write eight chapters for this fanfic (five are already complete) - I started writing it a few years ago and recently found the document and decided to finish it, I hope you like 💖
> 
> always remembering: english is not my first language, probably you'll find some mistakes here, sorry, just tell me if it's really a big problem and i'll do my best to correct this.

It had been almost a year since the war, Hogwarts was being rebuilt step by step, the school year had started and a few students from the lost seventh year of 1998 returned to finish their studies and do the N.E.W.T.s.

Of the few who were there, Ravenclaw students stood out as the majority, followed by Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and, to a lesser extent, Slytherin. It turns out that, with all the terrifying events that those walls witnessed, many were uncomfortable with the idea of returning, gave up, trying to erase those dark memories, staying as far away from that place. As for the Slytherins, most of those who supported the losing side of the war fled, took refuge, others didn't return for fear of judgment, even though they were allies.

Those who stayed to complete the school year, to help rebuild the school and even to clean up the stain that the war had caused to Hogwarts' memory, were so few that it seemed unfair to separate them in each respective common room; it was Minerva's idea to create new rooms, bringing together all those who returned in one place.

And they had nothing to complain about the Eighth Year Common Room, perhaps only the lack of colors, it was a lot of gray and white, the students assumed that, perhaps Minerva and the others avoided as much as possible showing favoritism to any of the houses. But still, the place was cozy.

And for Harry, it’s still his home.

Going back to Hogwarts was Hermione's idea, of course, but Potter had no objection to that, even after all, he missed the castle.

He tried not to be bothered by the attention he received when he returned to school, although this increased - a lot - his desire to be hidden in some corner, it took a while before it was routine to see Harry Potter, the Savior, walking down the halls without attracting so many looks.

The unusual was in the rooms, corridors and even in the library, see Draco Malfoy.

Expressions of surprise and disdain spread across the faces of the people around when Malfoy was introduced as one of the students who returned, what was mostly heard were dialogues like "How did he have the courage to come back here?" "After all the things he did..." "But wasn't he... bad? " " A Death Eater! At Hogwarts?!”

It turns out that since the beginning of school Malfoy didn't reply to any of this, he remained quiet, when seen he had a book or two in his hand, his focus on some lesson or helping Slytherin students - the only ones who were not so bothered by his presence - to rebuild some destroyed wall of the castle. If it weren't for his name being said by the corridors - often accompanied by unpleasant criticism and comments - Draco Malfoy would be just one more of Hogwarts' ghosts.

Harry didn't say anything, he and Malfoy didn't argue anymore, on the contrary, whenever they met the feeling was uncertain, as if they had so much to say, but not enough words.

Gradually their presence became so commonplace that neither Potter nor Malfoy received any more attention and, to Harry's happiness, things were finally calm.

* * *

"This is madness!" Harry leaned over the table, hitting his forehead on the wood. He had been with Hermione and Ron in the library for an hour, reviewing the lessons he would have to finish after Christmas.

"Harry" it was Hermione who spoke, whispering firmly "I already told you, if you think you can't make this potion, ask Professor Slughorn to give you another one."

"Hermione! He can't just give up, he's Harry Potter!" Ron replied.

"Being Harry Potter does not help in the final grades, especially in potions" she pointed out closing one of the books she read, while Harry muttered under his breath, turning his face and pressing his cheek against the table "Harry, I saw what this potion and it's... particularly complex."

"Just tell me I'm not capable" he said in a muffled voice.

"That's not what I meant!" she stood up on a sigh, picking up three of the six books that were close by "Just stop being stubborn."

"You could help him, couldn't you, Mione?" Ron asked with a pleading look.

"Don't even think about it!" she leaned towards him preventing her voice from coming out loud in the middle of the library "I will _not_ help any of you, keep that in mind. And, Ronald, you haven't finished Professor Binns' lesson. For yesterday" she emphasized the end of the sentence and left.

Ron let out a chuckle.

"I love this woman" he said before getting up and following her.

Harry grunted again, lifting his face from the wood, the first thing he saw was Malfoy with an eyebrow raised in his direction, Harry straightened up before he could make a joke about it, but when he looked back, Malfoy was paying attention to the book in front of him and Harry had to remind himself that the times of fights between him and the slytherin had passed.

That no sarcastic joke or comment would ever come. No more.

He sighed, that was boring.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the Burrow with me, Harry?" Ronald Weasley asked for the fifth time that week.

"Yes" he gave a short answer.

"But you'll be alone for Christmas" he said "Mione is going to travel with her parents and, from what I heard in the common room yesterday, no one in the eighth year wants to spend the holiday here."

Harry knew this, not only did he know it, but he expected it. He wanted it, he needed a rest, a time away and alone; he loved the Weasleys, but this would be their first Christmas without Fred and he felt that the family needed that moment of mourning for them.

"Don't worry" replied to his friend "I'll be fine, I'll keep Hagrid company, it just might not be the best decision for dinner."

Ron laughed, giving up.

"Okay, but promise to send me an owl if you feel alone" Harry just nodded.

Two weeks before Christmas the train left, almost completely emptying the Hogwarts corridors, the school had never been so empty and, with some parts destroyed, it seemed strangely melancholy. On the same day that the students left, Potter spent the afternoon at Hagrid's hut, he knew that his friend was still shaken by the terror that was carrying Harry while he thought he was dead, so Harry planned to spend his free time with Hagrid, reminding him that everything was fine now.

As he returned to the Eighth Year Common Room, on the sixth floor, he noticed the lack of movement and the almost loneliness in the castle, maybe Ron was right and all his colleagues had come home, maybe he's alone at last. It was with this thought that he said the password and, when the passage opened, circumstances proved that he was wrong.

Draco Malfoy was sitting at a wooden table at the end of the room, reading a very large book, he didn't hear the passage open and, for a moment, Harry did not move, perhaps it was anxiety, or the desire to not attracting attention or even the surprise of seeing Malfoy outside his room. He looked relaxed, with his elbow on the table, resting his head on his left hand, he turned the page and raised his eyebrows, arching the corner of his lips in a brief smile.

Harry realized he had been staring too long when he saw it, he had to blink two, three times to see if it was real. It was the first time he had seen a smile, not a mockering one, smug or smirk, in Malfoy's face. He tried to move before the slytherin noticed the gryffindor's sudden stop at the door, and as soon as he took the first step, Malfoy looked up, his expression becoming more serious, but not closing or darkening completely as Harry thought would happen. He didn't seem bothered by Harry's presence, perhaps a little surprised and even sharing the slightest discontent that was knowing he wouldn't have the Common Room for himself.

Nothing was said by either of them, Malfoy turned his attention to his studies and Harry went straight to his room, deciding to finish some of the lessons before he forgot and left it to the last minute.

* * *

_Hermione,_

_I'm going crazy_

_I'm. Going. Crazy!_

_I don't know potions and I don't understand anything that is written in that book, what the hell is a Sphingidae and why can I only put its left wing? What's the matter with the right? Why?_

_And another thing, Antidote for Hexes that Cause Cutaneous and Subcutaneous Blisters and Third-degree Burns? I can't even say it right!_

_Mione, I don’t want to give this up, please don’t tell me to talk to Slughorn, if I hear the speech “I don’t understand, Mr. Potter, in the sixth year you're my best student” again I will be the one needing this antidote, 'cause I'm going to hex myself._

_H.P._

It had been a while since he had sent the letter to Hermione and Harry was lying face down on the bed, he had already finished two History of Magic scrolls, it's just a matter of time to finish all the lessons, two more paragraphs for Runes, read the Transfiguration book and finish the drawing of the star map that Firenze had asked and that's it, everything would be fine.

If it wasn't potions. It's always potions.

Her friend's response came faster than he expected, maybe he was lucky she still didn't get on the plane.

_Harry,_

_I spent some time thinking about how I can help you with your potions problem (since you're too stubborn to ask Slughorn for a different one)._

_You know that Ron keeps complaining that I spend a lot of time studying in the library, don't you? In the times that I was there I talked to someone who would answer your questions without any problem, I just don't know if you'll react well when I tell who._

_Let me know if you're interested._

_With love,_

_Hermione._

Harry read that letter more than once, and then he replied asking Hermione to stop the mystery and tell him right away.

_Harry,_

_You didn't have to be so rude in the previous letter, I was just making sure that you wanted help so that I wouldn't have to listen to you saying I'm crazy 'cause of what I'll tell you right now._

_I talked to Malfoy. I didn't tell this to you or Ron 'cause he practically begged me and, Harry, he apologized to me, really, with all the words._

_Draco Malfoy apologizing to a Muggle-born! I was really surprised!_

_I'm not going to say any details 'cause I want to talk about it when you and Ron are together and, yes, I forgave him._

_It turns out, he is really good in potions, I still can't believe he has better grades than me! He's the only one who can help you with that._

_I'm pretty sure he didn't leave Hogwarts for Christmas, so since you two are, perhaps, the only eighth graders in school, you could try to talk, I don't even want to imagine the boredom you're experiencing (or you could read the book I gave you - Ancient Runes from the Antiquity of Before - it's an incredible book)._

_Good luck and if he's not as nice to you as he was to me, you can punch him in the face and say it was courtesy of me - to remember the old days._

_With love,_

_Hermione._

Harry watched the paper with immense curiosity, even though he had an idea of whom Hermione would advise to help him, he imagined that it's only 'cause of the good grades the boy had, knowing that his friend had really talked and, not only that, she seemed to have established a minimal bond of friendship with the slytherin, made his heart flutter a little. He knew that Malfoy had changed, but reading it almost explicitly by Hermione herself... He really didn't know how to feel. 

He sighed, he would think about it later, it was getting dark and he was hungry. He got out of bed, stretching each part of his body and hurried out, passing through the main entrance of the common room and was surprised to find Malfoy exactly the way he was hours ago, Harry wondered if he had even gotten up for dinner, 'cause there was no indication of that.

He moved quickly through the corridors, it was past time and, in his haste, he had forgotten the cover inside the suitcase. Lucky the kitchen isn't far away, after tickling the pear in the painting, Harry was received by four house elves, all saying they were happy for the visit, running to try to serve him anything and everything. Harry accepted a cinnamon roll from a tray that appeared over his nose.

"Mr. Potter!" He was called "Winky is happy to see you!"

The little elf really looked happy, she brought him a tray of what was probably the main course of the day, but there were so many pieces of chicken there that he didn't even know if Ron would be able to eat it all... He probably would.

He ate while listening to Winky talking about how things were going, sometimes the elves asked him if he wanted more and even though he said he didn't need anything, they served him and he found himself trapped there with more and more food in front of him.

"You guys look excited today" Harry said as they handed him his third piece of pie.

"It is not always that we receive more than one visit, sir" an elf a little taller than Winky, with a scar on one ear, said "even more so close to Christmas."

"More than one visit?" Harry asked.

"Yes sir" an elf with big blue eyes replied "Mr. Malfoy comes here almost every day" she said, smiling "Tinker makes the chocolate cake that Mr. Malfoy loves, Mr. Malfoy who said it."

Potter blinked, confused, listening to the elves talking excitedly about Malfoy's visits and some recipes he said were his favorites.

"Mr. Potter arrived shortly after Mr. Malfoy left" they told him.

So Malfoy, perhaps, had missed dinner time just as Harry had, or, more likely, hadn't come to the Great Hall willingly - just as he did every night. Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice, feeling a strange nervousness when he thought of Malfoy sitting there being as kind, if not more, than he is with the elves and bit the inside of his cheek to avoid thinking about what it would be like if he'd arrived a few minutes earlier.

When Harry returned to the Common Room, Malfoy wasn't there, his book - now accompanying scrolls, quills and inkwells - was, but he couldn't be seen. The gryffindor sighed a little relieved. Harry started admitting in the third month of school - and Ron would call him crazy if he knew - that, in a way, he missed the rivalry with Malfoy, it's true that the slytherin was an asshole when he was a child, that he made Harry mad and that their arguments were childish and silly, but they occupied his mind and, now recalling some, even amused him. Having someone who hated him made him feel more normal and not The Boy Who Lived - not to mention the boredom he's experiencing now that all he do is hear Hermione saying that he and Ron should focus on the N.E.W.T.s.

Besides, this new Draco Malfoy instigated Harry, the gryffindor didn't know how to feel with the curiosity that surrounded him whenever he saw Malfoy somewhere: “why did he come back?” “why is he spending Christmas here? ” “ what does he want so much for the future that requires this gigantic amount of studies?” knowing that, perhaps, his questions couldn't be answered left Harry frustrated.

"Whatever" He thought, trying to get his mind off the subject "I need a shower" he went to the showers and after that, he fell exhausted in bed.

* * *

Three days passed, Harry sat in the armchair by the fireplace, opened the book in his lap and suppressed a sigh, had already read the same sentence more than four times and was unable to absorb a single word of what was written, he adjusted his posture more than once while trying to concentrate, throwing his leg over one arm of the chair, practically lying on the other arm; he looked up, the way he was lying gave him full view of the table where Malfoy was studying, Harry noticed first the amount of books - which would make Hermione proud - there were two piles on the left side and three books on the right side, kinda a mess. 

He noticed the pen that streaked the parchment, only stopping to renew the amount of ink or to rest on the paper when pale fingers released it to change the pages of that huge book in the center of the table, Malfoy looked focused, his forehead frowning a little while reading, his lips twisting to the side in a confused expression just before his attention turned to the pile of books on the left, looking for something specific, Harry could almost hear the displeased sigh that escaped the slytherin when he realized that what he was looking for wasn't there.

Malfoy bring the quill to the parchment and Harry began to wonder how the scratching of the tip on the paper made no noise, everything else did: flipping through the pages, adding ink, Malfoy's leg shaking, his breathing slow and calm, the small clicking noise of his tongue in frustration as if he had missed something in some lapse of concentration... but the writing was silent, the pale fingers clenched without force against the quill were quiet, almost graceful.

"Is there any problem, Potter?" Harry blinked twice before realizing that the question was addressed to him, looked up from the pale hands to his face. Malfoy had one eyebrow raised, curious, his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the gryffindor's somewhat widened eyes, Harry only managed to shake his head negatively before turning his attention back to the open book in his lap. 

He frowned, confused not only that he'd paid so much attention to Malfoy, but also because he'd no idea how he's going to finish this lesson, Slughorn had given him a ridiculous deadline to something totally out of hand. Harry let out something that sounded like a frustrated growl before he lay back in his chair and dropped the book on his own face.

Maybe Hermione was right and he should ask for help, just this time, since his grade depended on it and - as she said - his grade was the only thing he had to worry about right now. He bit his lip, pulling the book up on his chest, looking again at where Malfoy was. The slytherin was still writing, and Harry felt a twinge of envy at that dedication and another twinge of guilt for not trying hard enough. Would Malfoy laugh if he asked for help? Would he tell him he's lazy or call him dumb?

The Malfoy he knew wouldn't miss an opportunity to show how superior he is at something, but the Malfoy he knew wouldn't be alone with Harry for four days without making even one infamous or sarcastic joke. Nor would he spend afternoons and evenings sitting in a chair with his nose stuck in books or be kind to the house elves in the kitchen. The Malfoy he knew would never be praised by Hermione under any circumstances.

Harry tilted his head to the side to be more comfortable while watching the fingers of the slytherin's left hand tap the wood in a melodic rhythm, it was the fingers once again that stole the gryffindor's attention, they seemed different, as if something was missing in both the hands. Wasn't there a ring on his finger since Harry met him?

"Unless I've a second head growing on me right now, I hope you've a good excuse as to why you keep looking at me like that, Potter" Malfoy said firmly.

Harry pursed his lips and looked at the Slytherin, that same curious expression still on his face, but now a little more annoyed, as if he expected some kind of judgment. Harry hesitated, staring at him, until Malfoy seemed ready to say something else.

"I need help" Harry replied in a single breath, Malfoy softened his expression, looking just confused "Hermione told me you're good at potions" he added.

Malfoy nodded.

"Slughorn gave me something, to improve my grade" he said sheepishly, he didn't need to say that, just asking for help explained the whole situation "and I have no idea what to do."

"Let me see" Malfoy said.

Harry got out of the armchair trying not to go straight to the floor and approached Malfoy's desk, handing him the book that was making him so anxious.

The slytherin slid his eyes over the first few pages and gave an incredulous laugh, it wasn't mocking, but he certainly seemed to have found it amusing.

"Honestly" he looked at the gryffindor with a smirk, "I would expect Snape to ask you for such a potion, but Slughorn?! What did you do to make him this unmerciful?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but just frowned.

"This is one of the most difficult potions in the book, Potter" he explained calmly and, for a moment, Harry felt himself in the presence of a stranger "It takes weeks of practice and study to make such it perfect."

"And how much time do you need to make one at least acceptable?" he asked before thinking and saw one corner of Malfoy's mouth lift in a half smile.

"A few days. Maybe a week."

"Great" he replied "Will you help me?"

The slytherin narrowed his eyes a little, still looking at him with that small smile. Potter kept his gaze, waiting.

"Tomorrow at two o'clock, in the potions class. And don't be late."

Harry nodded, picking up his book from the table and heading up the stairs, totally ignoring the lump in his throat and how his heart sped up with that last sentence.


	2. I tell the ether all of my desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And, of course, just to see if he could annoy Malfoy, Harry Potter added to his to-do list: "be late for potions class"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> always remembering: english is not my first language, probably you'll find some mistakes here, sorry, just tell me if it's really a big problem and i'll do my best to correct this.

Okay! Harry Potter was late! It was almost 2:30 PM when he ran down the halls, with a single book under his arm and holding his scarf tight so it wouldn't slide off his neck. He had asked for help and on the first day he had already managed to screw up everything, if Malfoy refused to help him, Harry would be ruined.

_ "You can ask Slughorn to give you an easier potion" _ Hermione's voice immediately came to his mind and she's right, but he didn't want to give up that easily and, certainly, he didn't want to see Slughorn's face of disapproval and disappointment saying  _ "I expected more from you." _

Harry picked up his pace, opening the classroom door with a little more force than necessary and quickly entered the room, panting.

"Sorry I'm late, Hagrid never remembers to fix that clock, if I hadn't remembered to cast  _ Tempus, _ I-" He started to speak, trying to breath, leaning with his hands on his knee, stopping only when he looked up.

Malfoy was at the first table in the front row, not wearing his cloak, only a long-sleeved white shirt - the sleeve on his left arm raised slightly to the elbow - and his tie was loose. Unlike all the times that Harry saw the slytherin, his hair was slightly messy, his face a little red and there was a cauldron already in use on the table.  It was clear that Malfoy was there even before the appointment with Harry and even clearer that he was working on something difficult.

"No need to explain yourself, Potter" he said, his voice serious, Harry wondered if he was in a bad mood or if the potion he was making had gone wrong - or both.

The gryffindor approached, placing the book on the edge of the table and looking secretly at the cauldron in use, the potion had a caramel color and a rustic smell, like wood, Harry frowned trying to remember if he knew what it is.

"It's nothing you know" Malfoy replied as if reading his mind, but probably just read the expressions on his face "I've been trying to finish this potion for months."

"Is it your creation?" he asked surprised, Malfoy nodded "And what for?"

The blonde pressed his lips together.

"Nothing that will help you with your grade, Potter" He replied firmly.

And that's it, that was the kind of response Harry was used to dealing with.

"Rude" Harry said quietly, but he knew well that the other had heard, Malfoy rolled his eyes and the gryffindor almost felt frustrated for not receiving an answer.

"Anyway" the slytherin said "I would appreciate it if you started to separate the ingredients while I clean this, so we can avoid wasting _ more  _ time.”

"I already apologized for being late" Potter replied defensively, but did what was asked, opening the book and going after flasks and more flasks, doing it without the use of any magic, he felt more secure like that - with the certainty that he wouldn't drop anything - "Hm... Malfoy?"

Harry called him, there were two specific substances in the book that he couldn't find anywhere in the cupboards, Malfoy turned to him, he was collecting some of the potion he'd made in a small, round container, he nodded, asking what the gryffindor wanted.

"The ingredients are missing" he said, feeling the slytherin stop a little behind him and lean over to read what the book asked, Harry slid his finger under the place where the name of the substances were written.

"They aren't" Malfoy replied and Harry looked back quickly, startling slightly when he noticed the slytherin's face so close to his "These are controlled ingredients, usually in the professor's personal stock."

He went over to a black suitcase that Harry had only now realized was there.

"Those in particular are the important part of the potion. Any ingredient that has the ability to alter the chemical properties of the skin is prohibited from being used without supervision and, as you can see, essential for a healing potion like the one you need to do."

Harry nodded, watching as he opened his suitcase.

"Lucky for you that they're easy to find, Potter" he said, holding a cylindrical flask with a silver liquid inside and a transparent bag with orange powder “If we had to use one of my rare ingredients and you ruined the potion, you would be in more trouble than just a bad grade.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Will you explain to me why you've a personal stock?" the gryffindor frowned, suspicious.

"How else would I be able to create a potion, Potter?" He smiled wryly and Harry suppressed his own smile, strangely comfortable that Malfoy was acting the way he knew, the way Harry was used to.

Harry prepared things according to the book, Malfoy didn't help him so much and he liked it that way, preferring to ask when he had any doubts than having Malfoy telling him everything he needed to do. And to be honest, Harry had no idea how anyone could like potions, it wasn’t exciting or creative, he's repeating something others had already done, having to measure everything he added and having to remain focused on how he moved the wooden spoon in the cauldron, right, left, right, right, add another flower powder, left, add lizard venom, right, left, add another weird powder from some animal with a weird name - probably in latin - right, left, and... had he already added the venom?

Harry shrugged, pouring the bright yellow liquid into the potion and at the same time he knew something was wrong.

The potion bubbled, turning into a viscid, sticky greenish liquid that refused to release the wood spoon that Harry was trying to pull out of the cauldron, the potion bubbles bursting, splashing on the table and the liquid turned solid quickly, covering parts of the wood, like a disgusting glue. The gryffindor let out a frustrated growl.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Malfoy asked, he was writing something in a small black notebook.

"I think something went wrong" He said, trying to get away from the cauldron that was still bubbling. Malfoy sighed, closing the notebook and putting it in his pocket, the quill he used disappearing in the air, he approached observing the state of the potion.

"Devil's Snare glue" Malfoy sighed

"I didn't use anything even close to a Devil's Snare!" he said defensively.

"That's what they call it, Potter" the slytherin rolled his eyes "It's an extremely strong glue and it's hard to remove even with magic."

Harry watched the cauldron, had already given up trying to get the wood spoon out of it and now it almost sank completely into the liquid.

"And how do you remove it?" He asked

"With brute force."

Harry nodded, not sure what to do next.

"Did you really have to make one of the most difficult mistakes to fix right on the first day?" Malfoy grunted under his breath.

"I'm sorry, but I thought it was your job here to help me" he said.

"Yes, but I'll not follow your every step to say if you've already added the venom once" Malfoy defended himself and Harry felt a little embarrassed to realize that the slytherin was right "Go to the cupboard and get the sponges."

"Why?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

"To wash that idiotic expression off your face" Harry opened his mouth to answer "For Merlin, Potter, get the sponges before it starts to dry!"

The gryffindor did it, muttering under his breath, picking up two sponges and throwing one at Malfoy, trying - unsuccessfully - to hit his face, making it clear that he wouldn't do it alone, Malfoy rolled his eyes and conjured water and soap in the cauldron, Harry saw the glue - still bubbling - gradually liquefying and mixing with the water until Malfoy managed to clean the solution and make it disappear from the cauldron, but they didn't escape the sponges.

Harry rubbed the edges of the cauldron hard while Malfoy rubbed the table, often having to use his hands to pull the harder layers of the substance that dried on the wood. Potter's attention strangely being focused on the act whenever it happened, Malfoy's pale fingers in contrast to the dark color of the glue, graceful even in a job like this, precise and firm. And Harry realized: there's a white circle on the ring finger of one hand, as if something was missing there, and yes, the gryffindor was right, Malfoy had discarded the ring he was so proud of, the symbol of the Malfoy family.

"You're spilling water on yourself, Potter" he said and Harry looked up slowly, without realizing it, tracing his gaze on the slytherin's arms, hesitating a little to look where the muscle flexed by the effort - Malfoy seemed to have a great strength for someone so slender - then going higher, to see where the skin show up again, the blonde was reddish near the neck, Harry looked up at his face, Malfoy was also breathless from the effort and from spending so much time with his head tilted down "Potter?"

Harry focused on the gray eyes that were staring at him, moving his hands in the cauldron once more and finally realizing what the slytherin had said, Harry swore under his breath, he had splashed water not only on his own chest, but there was a small puddle on the floor.

"If I knew you were going to make such a mess, I would make you clear the tables" Malfoy said, his voice sounding amused.

“Shut up, Malfoy” He grunted, trying to ignore the warmth that rose up his face. What was he doing? Looking at Malfoy like that? Analyzing him as if they were back in the sixth year and Harry was still trying to prove that Malfoy was up to something.

"I think we're done" Malfoy said, the Slytherin had crouched down to see if there were any traces of glue on the floor, while Harry dried up the mess he had made.

Malfoy stood up, stretching his arms, Harry followed the movement with his eyes, since it was the first time he saw the blonde doing this, his shirt was tighter on his chest and the sleeve that wasn't lowered slid slowly, but not enough to reveal any significant amount of skin. Potter stared at the clean cauldron, pushing it out of his head, he knew very well when he think someone is attractive, but he preferred to keep Malfoy off that list, in case things went back to the way they were.

"Tomorrow we'll try again" the slytherin's voice brought Harry out of his thoughts "At the same time. Don't be late."

Harry tried to keep his eyes from rolling, but without much success, he ended up answering Malfoy with a frown.

The slytherin left first, heading towards the common room, Harry didn't even consider following him, he had enough of studies for the day.

He went down to Hagrid's hut, the man was always a good company, the conversation went well, from creatures of the most diverse types to Hagrid's love life and how recently the letters he received from Madame Maxime were increasing in number. Harry loved to stay there, in the only corner that, even after all, hadn't changed, with the person who brought him to Hogwarts and accompanied him for so long. Hagrid was one of the few who didn’t mention the war and Potter was grateful for that.

He felt his stomach growl, how long had he been there? The sky was already beginning to turn purple; Harry gave another excuse to escape the cookies that Hagrid had baked, said goodbye and went back to the castle, straight to the kitchen.

* * *

Harry realized that he had established a routine on the second day he found himself alone in the castle, he couldn't complain, he woke up, had breakfast and talked with whoever came his way in the corridors, visited Hagrid, returned to common room to study or read a quidditch book, answered letters from Hermione, Ron, even from Luna and Neville, went out to see the thestrals and then to the kitchen to talk to the elves.

It was only on the fourth day that he added studying with Malfoy in his routine and Harry had the impression that it would take him all week to finish that potion.

And, of course, just to see if he could annoy Malfoy, Harry Potter added to his to-do list: "be late for potions class".

"Maybe I should lend you a watch, Potter" the slytherin said as Harry closed the door, the gryffindor realized that Malfoy hadn't looked away from the cauldron in front of him - the one with the same mysterious potion from the previous day.

"Three minutes earlier than yesterday" Potter said with a wry smile, as he approached the table where Malfoy was.

"Let's see if by the end of the week you can get here on time" Malfoy said, staring at Harry as he removed his cauldron from the table, replacing it with a clean one.

"I doubt it" Harry said quietly, but received a disapproving look from the other, making it clear that he was heard.

"You know what to do" he said, Harry nodded, going to separate the ingredients, realizing that Malfoy had already left the two that would be missing on the table.

The Slytherin seemed distant today, leaning on the table, reading a thick brown book, he looked worried and at the same time frustrated with something. Potter followed him with his eyes for a moment, watching him move one hand to his forehead and cover half his face, whatever he was reading, he wasn't satisfied with that. Harry felt curiosity bubbling up inside him, as he knew those reactions were linked to the potion that Malfoy was preparing.

"Do you spend the whole morning here?" Harry asked as he peeled a seed.

Malfoy was slow to answer, in fact, he was slow to realize that the question was addressed to him.

"Hm?" he looked at the gryffindor.

"Whenever I arrive you're finished with whatever you're doing" he said "Do you spend the whole morning here?"

"I'm studying, Potter, you should do the same" he said shortly and looked back at the table. The gryffindor rolled his eyes.

"And what _exactly_ are you studying?" Harry really wanted to know, even knowing that being curious always got him into trouble.

Malfoy sighed.

"Pay attention to your potion, Potter, my arms still hurt because of your last mistake" he said quietly and then became unaware of the surroundings again.

But Harry continued to watch him, well, mostly his arms - since Malfoy quoted them in the conversation - the gryffindor got lost in his mind wondering what it would be like if Malfoy had nothing covering them, them and the rest of his body…  Harry shook his head, trying to focus, threw the peeled seed into the cauldron, picking up another ingredient, until just over a year ago any thoughts he would have about Malfoy would be how unpleasant, arrogant and pathetic the boy is, far from how the pale skin would be naked or how those long fingers would feel caressing someone's skin... his skin…

Potter let out a low growl of frustration when he realized that he had slid the knife too far, he was cutting the wings of the _Sphingidae_ \- which he now know is just a moth - and what was supposed to be a perfectly straight line turned in a crooked diagonal, shattering the part of the wing that would be used in the potion. Harry resisted the urge to hit his head on the table. He tried to remember if Hermione had explained to him why he could only use one of the wings in the potion, but his mind was empty. He knew that the stock of this insect was limited and, if he remembered correctly, he had taken the last one.

Harry hesitated again, looking at Malfoy, he seemed too focused and starting to get stressed, so Harry decided that he could handle it himself. He cut the moth's right wing with admirable precision and, with tremendous care, added it to the cauldron.

To the gryffindor's relief, nothing happened. For a full two minutes.

Malfoy was the first to smell it, a harsh, nauseating smell in the room, so strong that he felt his eyes water.

"Potter! What did you do?" Harry had a few seconds to be confused, until he took a deep breath and the bad odor invaded his nose. He coughed, covering his face with his arm.

The slytherin covered his face with the back of one hand and with the other grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him out of the room. Malfoy closed the door behind him with more force than necessary.

"Tell me, Potter, why didn't you just ask me for another moth?" He said, taking a deep breath and grimacing, Harry did the same, the smell still around them.

"I didn't realize it was the wrong wing!" he lied. Malfoy looked furious as he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Pay more attention next time" he said quietly and Harry wondered how he managed to calm down so fast, now he just sounded tired.

Harry nodded.

"The smell takes an hour and a half to pass" Malfoy said "and it won't come out of our bodies so easily. I suggest you take a shower"  and it was the last thing he heard from the other, even though they made their way to the common room almost side by side.

The hot water not only helped to remove the odor, but also relaxed Harry's body completely, he didn't realize how tense he was, failing in something had that effect on him. What time would it be? 4 PM? And he was already so tired... maybe if Pigwidgeon hadn't woken him up so early this morning he would be more focused.

He turned off the shower, the cold wind immediately making him shiver. He dried off with a spell and, fully dressed, planned to go down the stairs and wait for Malfoy - in case he wasn't already waiting for him.

It was two steps away from the door and he ran into someone. To be precise, he ran into someone's back and that someone wasn't fully dressed. And who was the only one in the entire common room? 

Malfoy quickly turned around as surprised as Harry.

Potter stopped breathing for a few seconds, Malfoy was shirtless, holding the shirt over his left forearm - probably had taken the wrong one - he was wearing his uniform trousers and his hair was, in addition to being wet, totally messy.

The most sensible thing would be apologize and wait downstairs until the slytherin was presentable, but obviously, that's not what Harry Potter did. He looked at those arms with no cloth covering - well, almost - showing that they're really what Harry imagined, even better. The words died in his mouth as he watched that naked torso, Malfoy was very pale with a big straight scar on his chest and some smaller ones around it, too muscular for someone who looked so skinny. Harry lost himself for a moment, dropping his eyes down his abdomen, watching the trail of thin blond hair below his navel…

"Potter?" Malfoy called him and he notice the amused tone in his voice.

The gryffindor felt the heat rising up his neck and tried not to blush - he also noticed the heat going somwhere south, but didn't want to think about it - when he finally faced the pair of gray eyes that were staring at him.

He could have sworn he saw an almost smile on Malfoy's lips.

"Sorry" he said finally "I didn't see you there" t hat was a lie, Harry had seen everything and a little bit more of Malfoy there. The slytherin nodded, clearly fighting an amused smile.

"I'll wait for you downstairs" was all Harry managed to say before practically throwing himself down the stairs.

He fell into the armchair with his heart beating faster than usual, yes, it's official, Malfoy _really_ is attractive, that bastard had no right to be that handsome. Harry bit his lip, the scars… He knew where they came from, he knew that it was him because of him and the sectumsempra and that hurt a lot to think about, but, damn it! Even that helped him to be irresistible.

He grunted, hiding his face in his hands, if Malfoy discovered the effect he has on Harry's body, the malfunction he's causing in his mind and the way his blood is going straight south…

Harry crossed his legs, annoyed and tried to think of something that would make him forget about Malfoy and his wonderful body, the first thing that came to mind was Professor Binns' class in sixth year, when the ghost made an indecent anecdote about some woman who was probably old when Nicolas Flamel was a child. It was the first joke he heard the Professor make and Harry wished it to be the last.

It worked, he's breathing normal again and his face was no longer hot, he relaxed in the armchair.

"I think enough time has passed" he heard Malfoy's voice and the steps that went down the stairs "We can go back to class."

Much to Harry's relief and disappointment, the slytherin was fully dressed now, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and his hair was dry and slightly messy in an incredibly satisfying-to-look-at style.

Malfoy approached Potter as he stood up in the chair, there was something in his hand.

"It might help you" he said, handing it to Harry "To prevent this mistake from happening again."

Harry looked at the piece of parchment in his hand, it's exactly the answer he hadn't received from Hermione when he sent that letter, days ago. Malfoy's handwriting seemed a little rushed, as if those notes were just for him and no one else, Harry had to suppress a smile.

"Thanks" he said, putting it in his pocket. Malfoy just nodded, turning and heading for the door, Harry followed him with a small smile.

* * *

In the end, Harry added the correct wing of the moth to the cauldron, but missed so many other minor details that the potion was nowhere near as expected "At least you managed to finish it, Potter" Malfoy had said, but the gryffindor wasn't at all satisfied. 

And now, getting ready for bed, he lost himself looking at that piece of parchment.

Had Malfoy drawn that or used a copying spell? How many times has he been distracted? These ink stains weren't at all small. And, most importantly, what is Malfoy doing studying skin-modifying ingredients?

He passed his index finger lightly over the title - in the place written the name of the damn non-butterfly - noting the more neat calligraphy, the ink looked fresher, more alive, as if the writing was recent and Harry found himself thinking about Malfoy looking for that page right after the gryffindor had bumped into him, still shirtless, and with those extremely graceful fingers gripping the quill, sliding it capriciously to add that information especially to Harry.

And the gryffindor was lost in his thoughts again, images of every part of Malfoy's body in his memory as he bit his lip; it was so hard to concentrate after that episode, alone in a room with Malfoy, the slytherin occasionally stopping behind him to check on the potion, Harry could feel his breath on his neck and needed to hide the goosebumps it gave him.

Potter let out a breath - refusing to call it a moan - and lay on his back, felt his body heat up as the image of the exposed skin of the slytherin's hip returned to his mind, he imagined what it would feel like to slide his hands down the sides of that body and into Malfoy's trousers, lowering them and revealing more and more of the pale skin, until he could see at least the base of his dick, then Harry would stop using his hands and pull the waistband of his trousers with his teeth…

Harry gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, not realizing that one of his hands was going down his body. He frowned, trying not to move, he knew well what this act started, this was how he started to tease himself before his palm move slightly over the bulge in his pants. Bulge that was very present now.

But he didn't allow himself, he wasn't going to masturbate while thinking about Malfoy, not while they still had another week or two of private lessons ahead of them. Maybe after he finished the potion, he could think of those long fingers going down his abdomen, caressing his hips, arms around his waist pulling him against a solid, warm body. Then he could think of those same fingers around his shaft while the other hand slid down his back, gripping his ass tightly.

Harry moaned - and this time he couldn't deny it - he spread his legs on the bed, feeling his cock throbbing, he hadn't felt that aroused since he was fifteen, when puberty hit him like a cannonball.

His knuckles turning white while he held his shirt, he brought his other hand to his mouth, biting his middle finger and took a deep breath one, two, three times, closing his eyes and focusing his mind on another subject. He thought about how he missed quidditch and the speed while flying, the wind on his face…

It took time and effort, but Harry finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Draco:** *breathing*  
>  **Harry:** *BI PANIC*
> 
> ♡ if you enjoy my work, toss a coin to your broken writer, please, links are on my twitter ☕️ thank you ♡  
> [ ♡ twitter ♡ ](http://twitter.com/songbirdjask)

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ if you enjoy my work, toss a coin to your broken writer, please, links are on my twitter ☕️ thank you ♡  
> [ ♡ twitter ♡ ](http://twitter.com/sorcererjaskier)


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